Lock the door! Turn off the lights!! Remove all your clothes!!!

Do you remember me? As the girl you inked between your shoulders or the girl I have become? I'm not much different from the blackness beneath your skin, I'm permanent...but fading. Be careful.

It seems like time is flying by so fast, I'm afraid of closing my eyes and missing something that's begging to be seen. It's hard to write when I feel like this, when thoughts and ideas and feelings are competing for elbow room and attention from my mind. Sometimes I can't write fast enough to let them out. When my eyes are open it's hard to ignore the urge to give some permanence to my internal ramblings. I have to write. So I can sleep.

I had a long talk with the sis. I'm not the only one who has noticed the diversion from what I'm truly passionate about. You can read it all over my face. I'm sure the vibes are just pouring off of me. Why else would I be attracting people that are detrimental to my progress?
I know what I need to do, I guess I just need a push. Like when I stood way up above the water on my 13th birthday, waiting to jump off with just a snakelike length of bungy cord to protect me. I knew I needed to be pushed, but I balked. I won't this time. I dare you to push.

I know I need to write. It's what I've always done. I can't ignore my curiosity much longer. My brain is on all day, investigating, reaching, assuming, solving. The world just never ceases to intrigue and frustrate me. I feel like it's my responsibility to uncover some of the lies that we've been fed since 'they' started heavily marketing to children for the first time in the 80's. I can't let my kids grow up thinking that their government has their best interests in mind. I refuse to live in my bubble of western comfort provided by the exploitation of people I am shielded from seeing or knowing. It feels like my duty, my tax to the world. Unlike the joke that is income tax, this debt is morally heavy and wrought with human consequence if it is not paid. There's so much happening behind closed doors and even if I never know the truth, I won't stop looking for it.

And I won't stop looking for you. Even though you're being pulled further and further away. But that's how they like it, right? If we're apart, then we have no strength. We have no one to bounce ideas off of. We get bored and lonely and depressed and instead of creating we sit alone and write on blogs and wait for the world to get better. It feels like the amount of true, genuine contact between people is draining away. It's amazing that the internet creates this illusion that we're all so connected and 'in the know'. I might know what you did last weekend, (I saw the debaucherous pictures), and I might know who your friends are and what bands you're into, but I don't know what your eyes look like in the moonlight. I don't know how softly your breath sounds when you fall asleep beside me. I don't know your dreams, the sound of your voice, how you touch. I don't know you.